


Seaside

by ElwritesFanworks



Series: Pretentious Endeavour Slash [4]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Beaches, Cheating, Complicated Relationships, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Day At The Beach, F/M, Guilt, Infidelity, M/M, Morse is miserable, Older Man/Younger Man, Packing up the car and taking your bit on the side to Blackpool right under the wifey's nose, Sneaking Around, Thursday tries his best, Vacation, Win senses something is amiss, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-23 22:52:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14942874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElwritesFanworks/pseuds/ElwritesFanworks
Summary: Thursday and Morse go on holiday, ostensibly under the pretense of getting Morse some fresh air and offering him the sort of father-son mentoring that everyone - even Win - seems to think is good for him. Of course, it's not so simple, or so innocent, and what Thursday hopes will be a dirty weekend meant to keep their minds off work winds up becoming something more complicated when feelings finally start making themselves known.





	Seaside

**Author's Note:**

> Set (obviously) a few months after Snowmelt as that was in winter and this centers around the June Bank Holiday. The wiki says Win is originally from Blackpool so it seems believable they'd still have some family on her side 'round that way. Also, though this is post-Snowmelt, neither man has done any actual talking about the glaring issues they're trying to work through with sex. Also... Win has begun to suspect Thursday of cheating, but not with a man (and certainly not with Morse.) That should be all the context you need. This will probably be like... 3 chapters long? Fairly short, but this way I can post it in installments and not in a huge lump - and damn it all, I needed some Frendeavour in my life today.

* * *

“Pack a bag, Morse. We’re going to the seaside.”

At least the lad had the decency to look as curious as he did put out by the suggestion, Thursday thought. As usual, they were the last two at the nick, working late and trying (and failing) to stop sneaking glances at each other like a pair of teenagers.

“Why, sir?”

The cheek on him, to use that slightly petulant tone he knew got him riled. Thursday patted down the front of his tie to keep his hands occupied.

“Win’s idea, actually. She said you looked thin and pale and ‘wouldn’t it do the lad good to get a bit of air?’ Before you argue – she’s right. You’re right peaky and you’ve been a misery for a month –”

“That’s hardly my fault, sir.”

It was true, that. They hadn’t been able to meet for what felt like a full calendar year even if it was just nearing on four weeks. Thursday had been feeling it keenly, but he had a wife at home and if he woke up standing she often lent a hand, or at least let him rub up against her for a while. Morse had no one at all to turn to since he’d made such a pig’s ear out of courting his little nurse friend, and with such a cloud of gloom hanging over him, it was no wonder he had nothing by way of luck since.

“I’ve already rearranged our schedules. There’s the June Bank Holiday coming up, and I’ve managed to get us the previous Friday off as well. That gives us four days to ourselves. One of Win’s cousins has property in Blackpool and we used to take the kids there when they were small. She’s spoken to him and he’s going to be away until early August, so he’s sent ‘round the keys, and that’s that.”

Morse blinked at him, then shook his head.

“Win _knows?”_

“I should hope not,” Thursday pinked, uncomfortable. He disliked talking about the prickly issue of his infidelity at the best of times. ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ was the order of the day. “She… she knows you look up to me. Says it’ll do us both good – Sam being gone and – and you needing a father figure.”

He mumbled the last bit, dropping his gaze to study his fingernails intensely. Morse said nothing until the tension and discomfort rose to a crescendo worthy of one of his operas, then simply huffed out a sigh.

“Fine,” he shrugged. Then, “It’s late. I’ll be off, then. I don’t suppose you have time for a drink?”

Thursday cringed a bit and shook his head.

“Sorry, lad. I promised Win I’d be home for dinner tonight and I’ve fallen behind as it is.”

“Right, of course.”

Those eyes managed to look accusing, wounded, and shuttered all at once.

“You’re welcome to pop ‘round and have some – she’s made fish pie.”

“No,” Morse replied sullenly. “I’m not really in the mood for _eating.”_

Thursday ignored the twinge in his gut and patted the younger man’s upper arm fondly.

“Chin up, lad. Bank holiday’s only a week away.”

The look of combined need and irritation would’ve made a lesser man’s knees buckle. As it was, Thursday kept his footing, but only just.

“It won’t be long now,” he added, pushing his luck, and patted Morse just once, daringly, on the cheek, letting the pad of his thumb linger against his jaw. They couldn’t chance more – not at work. Even if they were alone in the room, the night shift posed a threat of discovery.

Morse, insolent to the last, turned his head, and sucked that thumb obscenely, making Thursday curse and flush. He took the opportunity to fetch his things and leave the office, the older man reeling in his wake. 

* * *

 

Morse looked miserable, sitting there in the passenger seat. He’d said nothing – not a thing, once, in the entirety of the drive, and by the time they reached Win’s cousin’s place, Thursday had begun to doubt the surety of his plan. Maybe some people really couldn’t be won over with ice cream and days off. They stopped to drop off the bags and Morse promptly found the nearest bookshelf, retrieved a volume, and sat in the nearest chair. Thursday blinked at him.

“Aren’t you coming? It’s still light out – we could go to the beach if you like.”

 _If you like_ implied more flexibility than Thursday was actually offering and they both knew it.

Sulking, Morse muttered something and peeled himself off the seat, trudging towards the door like he planned to meet a firing squad on the other side of it. Thursday tried to reassure himself that the lad was just cross because of so long spent apart. Some of his worry must’ve shown on his face because Morse softened the cold edge to his stare and smiled a bit, looking pained but willing to try.

“Show me around?” he asked. Ah, the proverbial olive branch. Thursday smiled back and nodded yes.


End file.
